


Just Hanging Around

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [79]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 06:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10759068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Illya finds himself in a confining predicament.





	Just Hanging Around

The floor was 20ft down from Illya’s enforced position. After waking up a day ago, in the cramped cage which was hanging from the ceiling, he’d had plenty of time to work out the height. He also knew that there were exactly 2374 tiles, laid out in a black and gold diamond pattern. The colour choice had intrigued him at first, but then he’d taken in the rest of the room. Peeling gold columns, and tattered brocade curtains, which were also gold, suggested a long forgotten ballroom.

Illya had no idea how he’d arrived in his current position. The last thing he remembered was arriving home to his apartment following a long day at the office. He had no real indication of how long ago that had been. All Illya knew for certain, was that he was in a cage only just big enough for him to sit in. All six sides were comprised of bars, making it extra uncomfortable, and the lock appeared to be hidden. Furthermore, he had been divested of his clothes and equipment and dressed in blue coveralls. This detail led him to believe he was in the company of Thrush.

Illya had attempted to find a way out of his predicament, but had been unable to. Even if he had been able get out of the cage, he couldn’t go anywhere. The cage was hanging from the centre of the room, where a chandelier would normally be. His only option had been to wait. And wait. Finally, after many hours of trying to ignore his insistent bladder, some people entered the ballroom.

There were six in total, and Illya recognised them all from previous meetings. Each one of them had been bested by the Russian in the past and it was obvious they want to exact their revenge. Not a word was said between the six as they each drew their weapons and aimed their enemy.

Illya’s heart froze in his chest as he realised that he was about to die. It wasn’t the first time, he thought death as imminent, but somehow this felt like the last time. He’d been taken from outside his apartment so, even if his disappearance was known, his whereabouts probably weren’t. He could only hope the tracker in his confiscated communicator was still working. 

Refusing to give his captors the satisfaction of knowing he was scared, Illya glared down at them in defiance. However, before any of them could fire, they all fell to the floor, one by one. Seconds later, Napoleon, Mark, and April entered.

“I’ll find the mechanism to lower him down,” Mark said, as he headed off to the other end of the room.

“Are you alright, darling?” April called up to him.

“Other than a need to visit the bathroom, I am well,” Illya replied. “I have also missed several meals.”

“Don’t worry, Tovarisch,” Napoleon told him. “I’m sure we can rustle something up.”

Within minutes, Illya had been released from the cage, and had found a place to relieve himself. Mark and April took charge of organising transport for the sleeping birdies, while Napoleon took Illya for some much needed food.

“Sorry we kept you hanging around,” said Solo, as they got into the car.

Illya didn’t reply to the terrible joke. Instead he decided to get his revenge by ordering the most expensive thing he could.


End file.
